A/N: I am grateful to purpleC305 for pre-reading and Midnight Cougar for beta-ing. Bella and I are in complete agreement. You make everything better than perfect. Thank you. xx
DISCLAIMER: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I’m just here having fun.
“It’s true, you never forget your first love, and, for me, that will always be Paris.” – Caitriona Balfe
After my conversation with Edward, we both visit our doctors who give us each the green light for proceeding with Project Baby, as Edward calls it. He’s taken over in a way only Edward can, telling me not to stress and he will guide us in the right direction.
Tonight, he’s planned a special date night for just the two of us, which is his keep-Bella-stress-free part of the project. Since returning from Paris, he is always looking for places for us to dine that will remind us of the delicious delights from our trip. However, tonight’s selection may be the best one yet.
We are both dressed up. Edward is wearing my favorite suit with a layering of dark grays and blues, and I’m sporting a new dark blue dress. From the front, it isn’t very revealing, as it has a high neckline with long sleeves and the hem is to my ankles with a side slit to allow for movement. The back of the dress is another story altogether. It’s completely open at my neck and shoulders then dips down to just below my waist, exposing the dimples above my ass, which Edward loves.
He hasn’t been able to take his hands off me since I did a spin for him, showing him the dress in its entirety.
“So what do you think?” I ask, spinning once more.
He continues to stare at my chest. “You aren’t wearing a bra.”
It isn’t a question, but I answer him anyway. “No, the dress has some support built in.” I reach up and do a slight adjustment of my boobs.
“They look bigger.”
“It’s just the padding.” I dash his hopes.
Edward walks closer then moves to the back of the dress.
I feel his fingertips tracing around the edge of the fabric until he gets to the sides where the side of my breasts are slightly exposed.
“I could slip my hands in here easily and cup you.” He lets out a slight moan, then his fingers move from my sides, farther down to my waist. His fingertips move back and forth across the material, and he leans in next to my ear, gripping my waist. “You’re not wearing panties either, you naughty girl.”
My nipples pucker at his closeness and feel his hands on my hips. One of his hands finally slips into the side of my dress and moves lower to between my legs.
“Hmmm, what do we have here?” His fingers effortlessly glide through my folds.
I moan when his fingers enter me, thrusting in and out several times, returning to rubbing my clit.
“What am I going to do with you, Miss Swan?”
I moan as he applies more pressure and rubs me a little faster. “Edward.”
“We don’t have time for this, and how am I supposed to have dinner knowing what’s not underneath this dress.”
I’m almost there. I just need him to keep going. I look down and clearly see the movement of his hand under my dress, so I spread my legs a little wider, hoping he will give me what I need.
I hear him chuckle in my ear, and his fingers roughly enter me, thrusting several times before he removes his hand completely. “You dirty girl. You think that will help? You and your sweet pussy are trying to derail my plans, but unfortunately for both of us, you will have to wait.”
He steps back from me, and I feel the loss of his body heat immediately.
I let out a sigh of frustration, and I’m positive I sound like I’m whining. “Edward, you can’t leave me like this.”
He smiles and places a kiss on my lips. “Oh, I can and I will.”
“I could just finish what you started while you watch,” I say, getting ready to move hand to where he just left me needy and wanting.
He grabs my hand and stops me. “You could, but it wouldn’t be the same. You will wait until we come home after we have had dinner. Only then will I give you what you need.”
I huff and reach over to the side table to grab my purse, exposing my long legs with the side slit of the dress, and feel the sharp smack of Edward’s hand on my ass.
“Hey!” I stand upright and turn toward him. “What was that for?”
“Bella, you and that ass are going to make us even later with all your questions. Let’s go.” Edward points to the door.
“So bossy tonight,” I complain, but not really and he knows it.
I love it when Edward is in charge, which means my back talk falls on deaf ears.
We leave the house and drive the short distance to the restaurant. When we walk through the door, it feels like every set of eyes are on us. The host leads us to a private table away from other diners, overlooking the sparkling city lights of Seattle with a view of the Space Needle nearby.
“Edward, this is gorgeous. It reminds me of our first date.”
“It does only with quite a bit more revealing clothing on your part.” He crooks an eyebrow.
“You don’t like my dress? I thought you would.”
“Oh, Bella. I like it more than I can show you right now. You are a torturing minx this evening,” he declares. “Now, read your menu and figure out what you’re going to eat.”
Our server arrives at our table, and we decide to go with the special fixed three-course meal they are featuring with wine selections.
Edward reaches over and takes my hand in his, running his thumb across my skin in a circular motion as we gaze out over the city.
I look into his sparkling eyes. “You know, I didn’t agree to this date without the possibility of dessert.”
“Oh, I know, Bella. I’m sure they will bring you whatever your heart desires, but in the meantime, we’re going to try some savory dishes.”
I nod, just as the servers bring our first course and set the plates before us: the Pacific salmon tartar for Edward and the chanterelle mushroom tartine for me.
Edward scoots closer to me and keeps his arm across the back of my chair throughout the entire meal. We share bites of food and lingering kisses, finding both to be equally delicious. Occasionally, I feel his fingers drift along my back, keeping all those feelings from earlier simmering just below the surface.
Our plates are removed and quickly replaced with our second course: a charcuterie board for two. Edward feeds me during this entire course with bites of cheese, meats, breads, and fruits, while I continue to sip on another glass of the most amazing wine.
I’m starting to feel a bit of a buzz at finishing my second glass of wine when our servers clear the table and bring our third course of the evening: the seared sea scallops for me and the beef short rib for Edward.
We are busy trading bites, when I notice Edward seems to be slowing down.
“You don’t like the short rib?” I ask.
“Yes, I do like it, but I think I may be starting to fill up.”
“Well, that’s a first.” Edward never seems to get full.
He gives me a slight grin. “I think I’m going to find the restroom.” He leans over and gives me a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ll be right back.”
I’m a little surprised at Edward’s sudden departure and hope he’s not in the bathroom sick.
My worries are short-lived when he returns moments later. He retakes his seat and finishes the rest of his wine.
“That was quick,” I note.
He nods and gives me a smirk. “I can be fast when I need to be.”
I look him over and don’t see anything out of place. “You’re feeling okay?”
“Mademoiselle, we have a special dessert prepared for you this evening.”
The server sets a small delicate plate in front of me with a single macaron on it.
“This is a little anticlimactic.” I look over to find Edward watching me.
“Go ahead,” he encourages.
I don’t claim to be an expert, but I haven’t met a macaron I didn’t like. “I wonder what flavor it is.”
Picking it up, I notice immediately it doesn’t feel right. Something is wrong with the macaron.
“Open it,” Edward suggests.
“I think I know how to eat a macaron, and you don’t open it.”
He grins. “Trust me. You do with this one.”
With his encouragement, I pull back each cookie. Only then do I realize it isn’t a cookie, but a box. More specifically, a ring box. Inside this ring box is the most exquisite ring I have ever seen.
My eyes flash over to Edward, finding he is now on bended knee next to our table.
He holds my hand and looks into my eyes. “Bella, almost six months ago, I said I would give you the world, and I plan to continue to do so one trip at a time. However, I want you to be my travel companion forever and so much more.” He grins. “I love you more than you love macarons.”
I grin right back at him and giggle.
“Bella, veux-tu m’épouser?”
My mind blanks.
I have no idea what he just said.
“Maybe this time in English.” He crookedly grins. “Bella, will you marry me?”
I can’t help the laughter that escapes me. “Yes, Edward! Yes!” I jump up as Edward stands, and hug him with everything in me. “Oui! Oui!” I shout.
He spins me around, then pulls back to kiss me on the lips.
I’m barely aware the entire restaurant is applauding, only to realize, after a few more kisses, the applause is for us.
Edward sets me down as diners from other tables offer us congratulations. He reaches over, plucks the ring from the macaron jewelry box, and slides it onto my third finger of my left hand.
“Oh, Edward. It’s gorgeous.” I marvel at all the diamonds as we retake our seats. I hold out my hand in front of me not able to take my eyes off the ring for even a second. There’s a large center diamond with additional smaller diamonds on each side. Even smaller diamonds span the entire outer circumference of the ring. It’s quite the sparkler.
“Do you like it? I found it in Paris at a vintage jewelry store while you weren’t at the spa located in our Paris hotel, but busy learning dance moves, which would hook me forever.” He chuckles.
“No, I wasn’t at the spa, but you were still a sneak to find this beautiful ring while I was busy.”
“I think we all know who the sneaky one is here.” He holds my hand and brings it to his lips, leaving another kiss there. “I almost asked you on the Passerelle Debilly after you said that you loved me, but I thought you would think it was too soon.”
“Oh, Edward. It’s perfect. Everything about this is perfect.” I lean over and cup his face as our lips meet, lingering a little longer than is probably appropriate.
“Are you ready to go home?” he asks, signaling our server and handing him a credit card.
I grab his arm, getting his attention. “Edward, what about dessert?”
The server returns with a bag and the slip for Edward to sign.
“Bella, only you would focus on dessert at a time like this. I need to get my fiancée home.” He signs the slip, pockets his card, and stands, grabbing the bag. “Don’t forget your macaron box.” He points.
I look over, snap it closed, and slide it into my purse.
Edward grabs my hand as we make our way through the restaurant and toward the elevators.
“Edward, wait up. I can’t move that fast in heels.”
He presses the down button, then turns to me and shows me the contents of the bag he’s carrying. “I got you a sample of every dessert they make.” He leans down and plants another kiss on my lips, then hustles me into the elevator once the doors open. “So, don’t worry, you’re having dessert, but when we get home, I’m having my dessert first.” His smile is suggestive.
“As you wish, Monsieur Parfait,” I tease.
Reaching over, I squeeze his hand because I know that no matter how great my love for Paris or what language we speak, Edward will always be the love of my life and who is exactly perfect for me.